Did you dream about it? Mikah asks. Alice kneads at her eye with a knuckle, smudges the residue of her dreamscape. A train, my boss, a drowning sensation. She responds, No. I haven’t even thought about it. It’s true. When Mikah told Alice that Pete was dead, Alice didn’t feel the need to ask questions. It was like this: yesterday, I could call Pete and expect him to pick up. Today, I can’t.